and the lying of the dew goeth up, and lo, on the face of the wilderness a thin, bare thing, thin as hoar-frost on the earth.

From whose belly came forth the ice? And the hoar-frost of the heavens, Who hath begotten it?

Who is giving snow like wool, Hoar-frost as ashes He scattereth.

From the breath of God is frost given, And the breadth of waters is straitened,

He destroyeth with hail their vine, And their sycamores with frost,

I have been thus: in the day consumed me hath drought, and frost by night, and wander doth my sleep from mine eyes.